


Out of Place

by irrelevanttous



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, JaliceWeek20, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrelevanttous/pseuds/irrelevanttous
Summary: Day 7 of Jaliceweek2020 - Yeehaw / Sheriff / WesternTwo strangers meet at a bar in a small town in Texas and have a conversation.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16
Collections: Jalice Week 2020





	Out of Place

**Author's Note:**

> Since my last story didn't have that much dialogue in it (and I love writing dialogue) I decided to make this one VERY dialogue-heavy. The idea for this came from the lovely @allicekitty13, so thank you, my dear ♡

\- _Out of Place_ -

“What can I get you, man?”

Jasper looked up. The man across the bar was staring at him expectantly, his eyebrow raised as if he’d asked that question more than once already. Jasper had not thought about what he was going to order yet – he had been lost in his thoughts since the moment he’d entered the bar-, so he only shrugged.

“The usual.”

The barkeeper nodded, walking away to get the bottle.

Some part of his brain registered that it was probably not the best sign when the barkeeper knew by heart what one’s usual order was, but Jasper didn’t care. This place had become his second home over the last two years; he spent every other evening here, drinking his sorrows away. Also, by now, he was past caring about the impression his frequent presence here would make on other people.

When he finally received his drink – bourbon whisky – he brought the glass to his lips, taking a big sip while spinning around the barstool he was sitting on.

It was Friday and a few people were celebrating the beginning of the weekend by playing pool in the dimly lit back room of the bar. Once upon a time – four years ago to be exact – Jasper had been one of them, leaning over the table, his arms around Maria, laughing with her at the silliness of these things.

So much had changed since then.

Now, he had to turn his gaze away from the young women and men who seemed to enjoy life so much more than he was capable of, these days. It had been a long time since he’d laughed like them.

As his eyes roamed across the room, looking for something to distract his mind from wandering, they came to rest on a young woman who was sitting in one of the booths near the exit.

The main reason why she had attracted his attention was not that she was one of the only people at the bar – with the exception of Jasper himself – who seemed to be here alone. Nor was it that she was stunningly beautiful, which he couldn’t help but notice as soon as he saw her. She was wearing her short, raven hair in a pixie cut, the colour of it complementing her pale complexion and large sky-blue eyes perfectly. Her features were elegant, and yet round enough to prevent her appearance from seeming uninviting. In fact, nothing about her was even close to giving off an uninviting impression.

On the contrary. She was exuding jauntiness.

However, the real reason why Jasper couldn’t keep his eyes off her was that she seemed to be so refreshingly out of place in this shithole. She was wearing a bright yellow dress which stood out in the sea of black, grey, and dark blue T-shirts and sweaters. The cold temperatures outside didn’t seem to affect her, because from the looks of it, she was not even wearing tights – her pale, uncovered legs were crossed underneath the table, black stilettos on her small feet. Her choice of clothes gave away that she was likely not from around here; people in this town dressed in a convenient way and didn’t give a damn about pointless things like fashion or style.

The fact that he’d never seen her before also was in itself a sign that she was just visiting or a newcomer. He knew everybody hereabouts and had known the vast majority of the townspeople for all his life.

What surprised him the most about this woman, though, was the radiant smile she was wearing on her face. Her eyes were fixated on her phone and she was reading something – or so he assumed – that was amusing her. Her whole face was gleaming, and the corners of her mouth formed lovely dimples, making her look younger than she probably was.

It was this energy of sheer contentment surrounding her that made it impossible for him to look away.

However, Jasper had not forgotten his upbringing and his manners.

Just when he reminded himself that staring at random people he’d never met before was impolite – no matter how intriguing he found them - the woman looked up from her phone and met his eyes directly. For once he was glad that the place was so dimly lit, for it hid most of the flush creeping up on his face.

But he did not look away.

If his staring was bothering her, she wasn’t showing it. On the contrary, her smile turned – even though Jasper hadn’t thought it possible – even wider. Then, she gestured with her hand at the empty seat across from her.

Jasper – stupid as he was – pointed his index finger at his own chest. Again he felt embarrassed as she giggled at the motion, his cheeks turning even redder when she nodded, her expression stating clearly: _Yes-I-mean-you_.

The slight sparkle in her eyes followed him as he crossed the room. He reached her table and hesitated, suddenly not sure if she had really meant for him to join her.

The woman motioned him to sit down across from her again. He had no idea why he did – he had never done this before, not during any of these other nights he’d come here – but his body moved of its own accord. Next thing he knew, he was sitting across from her.

Now that he was here, his mind was blank. It had been more of an impulse to approach her; perhaps curiosity about her appearance. But it had been so long since he’d had a real conversation with anyone, and he wasn’t sure if he still knew how to make small talk.

A few years ago, he used to be good at this. Talking to people.

Thankfully, though, she didn’t expect him to begin.

“Hi.” Her voice was lovely, bell-like and soprano. The word sounded like the first lyrics of a song coming out of her mouth. “I’m Alice.”

Her accent was unfamiliar, which only undermined his assumption that she was not from around here. Which would also explain her unusual choice of clothing.

Jasper eyed her more closely.

From this new perspective, she was even more beautiful than he’d originally assessed. Her skin was flawless and shimmered in the light of the candle on the table between them, looking almost transparent.

He had a feeling that she was quite short, although he couldn’t be quite sure about it since she was sitting down. The basis of this assessment was that her legs brushed against his a few times while he was watching her as if she was dangling them in the air. Her blue eyes gazed at him attentively and he wondered if she had blinked a single time since he’d come over here.

“Jasper,” he said. Then, remembering his manners, he added, “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Likewise. I’m glad I caught you staring. To tell you the truth, I have been staring at you, too, earlier.”

He was surprised by her admission, but didn’t show it, keeping his expression neutral. Normally this would have been the moment where he got up and left, not in the mood for flirting. Somehow it was different this time, with this woman… _Alice_. He remained seated and raised his eyebrow, never taking his eyes off her.

“You have?”

“Oh, yes. You’re a very handsome man.” Alice grinned. Now that he was sitting opposite her, not even the lack of lighting was able to hide his blush.

“I’m sure women tell you that all the time.”

“Never.”

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Never? I find that hard to believe.”

“Ma’am, you’re making me very uncomfortable.” The smirk on his own face gave away his real amusement.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t my intention. I guess, what really fascinated me about you was not the handsome face – sorry about that – but that cowboy hat you’re wearing.”

Instinctively, his hand flew up to the hem of said hat. It had become such a habit to wear it that he hardly noticed it anymore. However, his mother had always lectured him about taking his hat off in the presence of a lady so he did that now, running his fingers through his blond locks. Then, he placed the item next to him on the table.

Alice was still examining it.

“May I?”

Jasper nodded, pushing it over towards her, where she picked it up and took a good look at it from all sides.

“Are you a real cowboy then?”

“How would you define a real cowboy?”

She grinned. “You know, the usual, like sitting on a horse all day long, mustering kettle?”

“I guess, in that case, I am, yeah.”

Looking up at his statement, she gave him another radiant smile, seemingly impressed now. She was still running her fingers carefully over the material of his hat. The thoroughness of her examination was adorable somehow, and he couldn’t hide his amusement.

Alice – surprisingly – blushed at his expression and returned the hat to him. Her fingers brushed against his when he took it back from her and he withdrew his hand quickly.

“Sorry,” she said, still referring to her great interest in his headgear. “I’m sure it’s more than obvious that I’m not from around here.”

“Just passing through?” he guessed, and she shook her head. Her smile disappeared from her face for the first time and he worried instantly whether he’d said something wrong. The odd desire to see her smile again rose in his chest.

He ignored the feeling.

How ridiculous. He hardly knew her, had met her like two minutes ago.

“I’m running away, to be honest.”

Jasper leaned forward. “Really?”

“Yes.” Alice was looking down at her hands now, her forehead displaying a deep frown. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”

“I’ve been told I have that effect on people.”

“People just tell you things?”

Jasper nodded, smiling at her again. “Exactly.”

“I’m relieved then. I’m not the only one. You must be good at keeping secrets.” She was playing along now, tilting her head to the side. “Not that it’s a secret that I’m running away. Don’t worry, I didn’t rob a bank or anything.”

“That’s an interesting thing to say for someone who claims they didn’t do it… so oddly specific.”

He was teasing and she blushed again, letting out a high chuckle. “I swear, I didn’t!” To undermine her words she raised her hands and pointed the palms outwards.

When he heard the sound of his own laughter, he was surprised by it. When was the last time he’d laughed like that, so carefree and untroubled? Probably a long time ago.

“Where are you headed?” The question slipped out before he could stop it. Worried about her reaction – worried that his words would wipe away that beautiful smile of hers again – he added, before she had a chance to even open her mouth, “Of course you don’t have to tell me.”

“Why, are you going to follow me?” Her voice was teasing now, too. “Are you a serial killer, Jasper?”

He rolled his eyes at her comment, but really, he was intrigued by her. This woman was unpredictable, he could never tell what she was going to say next. Normal conversations followed a pattern, unspoken guidelines of what could be said and what not, and Alice seemed to ignore all of them.

“No, but I’m a vampire,” he joked, and she laughed again.

“You’d make a good vampire.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Jasper leaned back, watching her as she turned – at least partly – serious again.

“So, tell me, Jasper, the vampire. What brings you here on this fine evening?” Her eyes were still gleaming with amusement.

Her enthusiasm was contagious somehow; he thought if he could just reach out and touch her – for example, brush the tiny strand of hair back behind her ear –, her emotions would just spill out of her, infecting him. He’d never met anyone like that before. She was a personified ray of sunshine.

“Oh, I’m here every Friday.” And almost every other day of the week, but for some reason, he was too ashamed to tell her that.

“Always alone?”

In response to her question, the familiar sensations returned: his throat tightened and his heart dropped into his chest. Even after two years, it was still painful to think about it and even harder to say it out loud.

“Yes.”

“Sorry,” Alice’s chin dipped down as a flush crept across her cheeks. “It’s none of my business.”

Before he could say anything, she continued, “I’ve been told I talk far too much and often about things that don’t concern me at all. My stepmother used to say I was a – how did she put it - rude brat, yes, that was it.”

“Sounds like a lovely woman.” He was genuinely surprised that anybody would dare to speak like that to a person as… well, as sweet as Alice seemed to be.

“Hence the running away part.” Again, her eyes widened after speaking. “God, why am I telling you all this? We met like five minutes ago.”

Jasper grinned. “You can tell me anything. I will most likely be too drunk in a few hours to remember anything about this conversation tomorrow.” Now it was his turn to be astonished at himself. What an embarrassing thing to say; mentally, he kicked himself.

Alice didn’t seem to think so. “You come here to drink then?”

“Why else would people go to bars?”

“I don’t know, to socialize? You know, meet up with friends, have a good time?”

“Not me,” Jasper shook his head. “I need to drown my sorrows.”

Just like Alice had a few minutes ago, he frowned at his own words.

She didn’t miss it. “I’m glad I’m not the only one sharing things I would actually rather not talk about.”

Jasper looked at her again. There was something so inherently genuine and straightforward about her that made him want to spill all of his secrets, all of his deepest darkest truths just to get ten more minutes with her. What an exceptional presence she was in this town – people didn’t talk much about their feelings here. Knowing she would likely not stay in this region for long, somehow also made it easier to open up to her.

“I used to come here with… my wife.” Even two years later he could barely force the words out. “We used to play pool over there.”

He gestured toward the back room, but Alice showed no intention of taking her eyes off him. Jasper was expecting pity – the usual reaction. And yet, he could see none in her eyes. A strange sense of relief came over him at the realisation.

“She died,” Alice said before he could continue.

It was a statement, not a question. She slid her hand across the table as if to touch his, which he had placed next to his glass of whiskey. Both of them watched as she changed her mind, pulling her hand back again. Jasper couldn’t explain why, but he wished she hadn’t.

“Yes.” For once he didn’t choke up as he usually did when talking about this subject.

“I can’t even imagine.”

Jasper didn’t miss that she still hadn’t offered her condolences. But hadn’t he thought about it earlier, how she didn’t seem to follow the guidelines of normal, human conversations? And somehow this different approach was exactly what he needed.

Did she know that?

“So yeah,” he said in a last attempt to save the mood, “After that happened, I started coming here every Friday… well, to be honest, pretty much every day, actually, so I guess that makes me quite pathetic, don’t you think?”

He’d meant it as a half-joke, but this time, Alice didn’t laugh.

“You’re talking to the girl who just told you she ran away from home and her evil stepmother. That’s some Cinderella bullshit if you ask me. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to live. I will sleep in my car tonight, like I have for the last few nights, too. If _that_ isn’t pathetic then I don’t know what is.”

“I don’t think that’s pathetic at all.”

When she smiled at him weakly – looking so damn young all of a sudden – he wondered for the first time how old she was.

Was she even allowed to be in a bar?

After all, she’d run away from home – her parents’ home – so she was probably quite young.

“How old are you, Alice?”

“Are you worried you’ll get in trouble?” A smirk appeared on her face.

“Why would I?” He raised his eyebrow. “I’m not buying you drinks or anything.”

“Yes.” Her smile turned wider. “That’s quite rude actually, I was kind of counting on that when you came over here.”

And when he didn’t take down his eyebrow, she rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-three so you can relax.”

For some reason that _did_ ease his mind, although he could not tell where the sentiment came from.

“How old are you?” she asked in return.

“Twenty-six.”

Again he expected the look people always gave him after those words.

Widowed at the age of twenty-six?

But yet again, Alice didn’t react the way he’d expected her to. Instead, she just watched him for a long moment. Normally – with anybody else – he was sure this period of silence would have been uncomfortable. But not with her. In truth, it was quite the opposite: it calmed him to stare into her deep blue eyes, trying to find answers about this unusual woman.

She broke the silence first and let out a small sigh, before resting her chin in the palm of her hand, leaning forward.

“To answer your question from earlier: I don’t know where I’m headed. I’m not gonna lie, I came here because I was at a crossroads – literally and metaphorically – and I had no idea which way to go. So I drove until I reached the nearest town – this one –, looking for a place to get a drink, hoping to find some answers.”

“And instead, you found me,” he joked, but she seemed to take his words seriously, because she nodded, her mind absent all of a sudden.

“Instead, I found you.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“Are you saying it’s not?”

“To be completely honest, I’m still trying to figure that out.” And when he saw her expression – how the colour seemed to drain from her face – he added quickly, “No, I’m not talking about me meeting you … I … like talking to you. I’m just saying if you’re looking for a … a sign or anything, or life advice … or someone to tell you what to do, I guess, then I’m not the right person. I’m not exactly doing exceedingly well at life myself right now.”

He should stop talking before he could embarrass himself even further. But when he looked back at Alice, she was glancing at him with a mixture of kindness and… curiosity?

Jasper could get lost in the depths of her eyes. They were so full of comfort – in ways which he hadn’t expected – without ever giving him the impression that she was pitying him.

“I think you might be wrong about that.” Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke again. “I think perhaps it was meant this way … us meeting here. And please don’t ask me to explain where this feeling comes from … I can’t explain it myself. But somehow, I feel like you might be the answer I was looking for.”

Jasper stared at her. It seemed impossible that she would feel this way.

Could she not see what a mess his life was?

Had she not picked up on all the signs he’d given her, virtually screaming at her to run in the opposite direction?

The drinking, the dead wife, the coming here alone every day to drown his grief?

“You don’t want that,” he whispered. “You don’t want to get involved with me, believe me. I … My life is such a … mess right now.”

And then Alice said something even more mysterious, “Eventually, you’ll have to forgive yourself, Jasper. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

All he could do was gape at her.

How did she know?

 _Did_ she know?

Or was she simply guessing?

“How …?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated, before sliding off her chair, rising to her feet.

He had been right: she was short, even shorter than he’d assumed. But he didn’t have time to think about that right now, because she reached inside her bag, fished a few dollar bills out of it, and threw them on the table.

Was she leaving? Now? After making a statement like this?

He only knew that he could not let her get away, not without answers.

Then again, Alice didn’t seem to _want_ to get away. As soon as she’d grabbed her coat, she turned to face him again.

“Are you coming?”

Jasper blinked a few times. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll show me. And I promise I’ll explain everything.” She smiled, extending her hand.

He rose to his feet, his tall figure towering over her – she was _that_ short - and stepped closer. Without knowing where the impulse came from, he took her outstretched hand, feeling a strange, warm sensation coming over him at her touch. It almost felt like … hope?

“Don’t forget your hat, cowboy.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's not as angsty as the other ones. But very mysterious. Did Jasper kill Maria? Why did Alice run away? Where are they going? And how did she know about his wife? Guess, we'll never know.


End file.
